


A Friend Indeed

by pineappleonpizza



Category: Music RPF, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 01:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineappleonpizza/pseuds/pineappleonpizza
Summary: Oooh. Travis is going to be so mad at him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> my friend convinced me to write a jon fic and i hate not posting things i've written. i am soooo sorry if jon or travis are reading this. i have no excuses for this, other than i needed the challenge. it's probably completely ooc and i'm really hoping it never gets noticed. :) if you find it, i'm sorry, i love you.
> 
> i know nothing about drones, or anything. this is completely my imagination. it's also not been edited by anyone other than myself, so any mistakes are my own.
> 
> k bye. *hides*
> 
> p.s. stay away from ladders.

“Dammit,” Jon exclaims as the drone gets caught on the chandelier in their entryway. Oooh. Travis is going to be so mad at him. He was told not to mess while Travis was taking photographs out the back, but Jon couldn’t help himself. He wanted to play, and now, looking up, Jon has no idea how he’s going to get it down without Travis noticing.

He tries pressing buttons and he can hear the motor whirring, but the damn thing doesn’t move; just rattles the glass beads until Jon is sure he’s going to burn it out. Then Travis will _really_ be mad.

Okay, so new plan. If it won’t fly down, Jon needs to reach up and get it. He might be tall though, but he’s not a giant, and no amount of jumping is going to help him reach. To be honest, he feels like a bit of an idiot for trying, so he gives up quite quickly. Standing there with his hands on his hips, he wracks his brain trying to think of something when it clicks.

He trudges out to the garage, cheering (quietly) when he sees a set of ladders propped up at the back. Bringing them back to the house, he sets them up and starts to climb. He reaches and reaches, but he can just about touch the drone with the tips of his fingers. He needs to get higher. Climbing onto the top rung, Jon manages to unhook it and bring it safely to his chest.

It’s when Jon leans back to step onto the rung below he encounters a problem. The ladders wobble, not a lot, but with his weight at the top and no one to steady them at the bottom, the momentum is enough that they start to tip.

Jon’s never put much stock in the whole ‘life moving in slow motion’ thing that people talk about in the movies, but he now knows it’s actually a thing. And it’s too late to do anything about it. The ‘oh shit’ moment is here, and he regrets everything leading up to this point.

The ladders tilt to the side. His stomach drops, his heart leaps into his throat, and his mouth goes dry as he realises he’s six feet in the air, and there is no one to catch him, no one to stop the ladders moving, and it’s both too fast and too slow as gravity takes hold.

He’s falling. It feels like he’s falling forever until he hits the ground with a sickening crunch. His left elbow smacks against the wooden floor, pain shooting up to his fingers and across his shoulders. It’s when he tries to move though, that Jon realises just how bad the fall was. His whole left side throbs. The pain in his elbow is horrendous. It makes him whimper in agony as he cradles his arm against his chest.

“Fuckkkk,” he screams out, sweat prickling his forehead.

Pushing himself into a sitting position with his good arm, Jon jumps when he hears footsteps come running from the back of the house, and then Travis is in his line of sight, crouching down next to him.

“What the fuck is going on?” his friend says. Travis goes to put a hand on his arm, but Jon twists away, whimpering again as the movement jostles his elbow. Tears spring to his eyes threatening to fall. “Jon, what happened?”

“The drone got stuck,” Jon explains through gritted teeth and heavy breaths that match the throb running through his body. “Tried to get it down. Fuck, help me up.” He offers out his good arm, but Travis puts pressure on his shoulder to keep him on the ground.

“Did you bang your head?”

“No, no, just my arm, and my hip. Help me the fuck up.”

Travis puts an arm around his waist and pulls until they’re standing. Jon leans into his side, letting his weight rest against Travis, who’s holding him solid and steady, and Jon doesn’t care how much flack he’s going to get for dropping the drone; he’s really glad Travis is here.

“Okay. We’re going to the emergency room. Anything else hurt other than your elbow?”

“My hip is on fire, but I don’t think it’s too bad.”

Travis steps back for a sec, lifting the back of his t-shirt up to look. He whistles. “Wow, that’s going to be some bruise.” He runs a finger over it, making Jon wince. “Sorry.”

They walk out the door and down the steps towards the car. Every step ricochets through Jon’s body, jarring his elbow, and by the time they get to the car, his shirt is sticking to his back, and a bead of sweat makes it way down his temple. Travis lifts a hand and brushes it away when he gets Jon settled against the door.

“I’m just going to lock up. Gimme two seconds.”

Travis runs back towards the house, leaving Jon a panting mess leaning against the car door.

Why was he so stupid? He should’ve just shouted for help and took the telling off. Now, he’s broken and bruised, and he’s still going to get told off anyway when Travis checks the drone over. Goddammit.

Not even thirty seconds pass before Travis comes flying out the front door with a bottle of water in his hand, slamming it shut and locking it behind him. He runs so fast down the drive that dust kicks up under his heels, and Jon would laugh if it didn’t feel like his arm was going to drop off.

“Come on.” Travis gets him situated in the car, carefully pulling his seatbelt across Jon’s body, and honestly, Jon wants to cry, both at the pain and how gentle Travis is with him.

It’s so out of character to how they are usually; often acting like brother’s - bickering and playing each other up until they’re red in the face and laughing, but Travis is treating him like he’s made of glass.

Jon’s never been so thankful that Travis drove two days across the country to live with him and his friends. Hiring Travis to edit his videos was the best decision he ever made, and he couldn’t live without their friendship anymore. He’s glad Travis is here.

\--

A few hours later, with his arm in a cast from his shoulder to his wrist, and a bag full of painkillers, they pull up to the house. The sun is setting over the hills, and it’s beautiful, but Jon really can’t be bothered to appreciate it tonight.

He’s _tired_ , so tired he struggled to keep his eyes open for the journey home. Tired from the adrenaline that’s leaving his system; tired from being prodded and poked for hours and answering a million questions from what had he eaten today to was he on anything; tired from the super-strength painkillers they put him on for the pain.

He wants his bed. And he wants it now.

“Hang on there a sec,” Travis says, climbing out of the car and walking around to Jon’s side. He opens the door and leans across Jon to unhook the seatbelt. He takes the bag of medication and holds out a hand for Jon to take.

“Thank you,” Jon says, quietly, easing himself out the car with minimal discomfort, only whimpering when he bangs his hip against the door frame.

Travis lets them into the house, not even sparing the drone a glance before he’s helping Jon up the stairs to his room.

“You okay from here?”

“Yeah, thanks, man. Thanks for today.”

“No worries, bro. Wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t help out.” He dumps the bag on the end of Jon’s bed and goes to leave the room. He turns just before he disappears from view. “But don’t think we aren’t going to be having words about what you were doing with the drone before you decided to become Spider-Man. Goodnight.”

Jon laughs at him. “Goodnight, man.”

 


End file.
